Fecalography

Opinions, opinions, opinions...? We can't get away from them-they're running rampant out of people's mouths and through our brains! Opinions pierce our Chi like hot glass chards in our cornea. I'm not interested in what you think-especially if it's based on nothing more than the hot air coming out of your pie-hole. Maybe I'm deranged? Ok, yes, of course I'm deranged. I started thinking that saying something controversial might be fun in a sick and mentally twisted way. Since I'm fairly certain no one really reads my blog, I thought this would be a great place to wade into a rant, or possibly a diatribe if you prefer. I love a good rant-mostly because we never totally know how they get started, and we usually have no idea where we will finish. If you don't want to here another opinion, stop reading now.

If I laid a big steamy dump on a plate and told you about its beautiful biomorphic form, and its creamy cocoa brown saturated color, and then I referenced someone else's art work to set a precedent and create a historical context for my plate of poop, would my fecal matter be considered art? Pardon my sassy phrasing. The reason I reference SHIT in this blog is because Neil LaBute mentions it in his article Because the Darkness Feeds My Soul in the Fall 2009 issue of Aperture magazine. The photographs in this article are a collaborative effort. The images are created by Gerald Slota, and the text accompanying the images is by Neil Labute. To make a medium length story-short, Gerald Slota finds old images and then mutilates each image-then Neil Labute writes a few words on the image and it's a done deal. I'm sorry, but this sounds a lot like shit on a plate. I would certainly prefer not to eat shit!